Film Review
A hearty appetite for escapism and restrictions on contemporary themes
are mostly to blame for the weird burst of fantasy films coming out of
France at the time of the Nazi Occupation. Of these the
weirdest is undoubtedly André Zwobada's
Croisières sidérales,
a rare foray into science fiction (the genre being virtually
non-existent in France until recent times) which, via a few glib
allusions to Einstein's Theory of Relativity, convinces us that time
travel will one day become as commonplace as air travel.
Apparently it's all to do with a phenomenon known as
time dilation, which causes any
moving object to age more slowly than one that is stationary - an
experience grimly familiar to anyone who has ever travelled economy
class on a longhaul flight with a budget airline.
One thing the film neglects to mention is that time dilation was first
proposed by the Irish physicist Joseph Larmor in 1897 (predating
Einstein's famous theory by eight years), so Einstein gets all the
credit. (How brave of Zwobada to make a film in a country under
Nazi occupation that went out of its way to promote the work of the world's
most famous Jew.) Another omission is any reference to the
so-called
Twin Paradox, an
idea that would have made the plot appear logically absurd instead of
merely bananas. Rather than blind us with science, the
film's authors exert, shall we say, a degree of poetic licence, and
lead us to think that, to stay young and beautiful, all you have to do is to
go up into the stratosphere in a spherical pod attached to a balloon,
ignite the balloon with a misplaced cigarette, go whizzing off into
space, somehow find a way to turn around said pod and land back on
earth without getting killed in the impact. Somehow, I don't
think the firms that manufacture all those anti-ageing products have
much to fear...
At the start of the film, there is a
mea
culpa caption which admits that, whilst the ideas underpinning
the narrative are based on established scientific theory, some
grandes libertés have been
taken with the numbers. This is something of an
understatement. To achieve a time dilation effect so that 25
years is reduced to 14 days, the craft would have to travel at a
thousand million km/h, which would involve a journey into space and
back of roughly a thousand times the radius of the solar system.
Even assuming that the pod could reach such a stupendous speed (it's
hard to see how this could be achieved by a balloon exploding), the
passengers would doubtless be crushed to death, if not
totally atomised. in the acceleration, or else
smashed to pieces on collision with a meteoroid.
Of course, the same objections can be made against Franklin J.
Schaffner's
Planet of the Apes (1968),
which gets away with the same dodgy science, but slightly more
convincingly (partly because it doesn't include a ridiculous detour via
Venus, a planet apparently inhabited by the smuggest race of beings in
the galaxy outside Paris). Schaffner's film is in fact derived
from a French novel (
La
Planète des Singes) by Pierre Boulle, so it seems that
France led the way in time dilation themed fantasy. (French comic
book author Alain Saint-Ogan set the ball rolling with an episode in
his
Zig et Puce au XXIème
siècle, way back in 1935).
Planet of the Apes is a sci-fi
classic that everyone has heard about (and apparently everyone wants to
remake) whereas
Croisières
sidérales is a daft little fantasy that seems to have
tumbled into a black hole - why? you may ask.
Well, mindblowing, crass scientific implausibility aside,
Croisières sidérales
suffers from what is known in the trade as chronic silliness. It
starts out with the silliest of premises (apparently based on
scientific fact) and just gets sillier and sillier until the silliness
quotient becomes unbearable. Take, for instance, Mr Julien
Carette. In this film, he is supposed to be an intelligent,
well-trained, trustworthy scientist, but within a few hours of sharing
a space pod with Madeleine Sologne (before she became a blonde icon) he
comes a panicky buffoon who wrecks the entire mission (the original
purpose of which completely eluded this reviewer) just by lighting up a
ciggy. After this show of ineptitude, you'd think that Mr Carette
would be the last person you'd want to go up into space with, but no,
he ends up in the second space pod, risking even more lives as he goes
off the rails a second time.
And then there's the lovey-dovey Monier couple, who have just got wed
and apparently cannot bear to be parted for a second. After
Sologne's Carette-induced time slip, devoted hubby Jean Marchat decides
to leave the young wife he hasn't seen for the last 25 years alone on
Earth, whilst he goes off in a space pod so that, when he gets back
home, his wife will be the same age as he is. Is he
mad? Does Sologne
protest? No, she meekly stays on Earth for a quarter of a
century, welcoming the grey hairs as they come whilst her
beau idéal is happily
gallivanting about the galaxy for a fortnight's worth of time dilation.
About the only thing the film manages to get right is the
rapidity with which the moneymen seize on a scientific discovery and
try to make a quick buck from it. No sooner have Sologne and
Carette come down to Earth in 1966 than the entrepreneurs get to work
and build a 'stellar station' (
une
gare sidérale), promoting tours into the future for those
sad individuals for whom life in the mid-1960s holds little appeal
(think how much happier they'd be if they had landed up in
1991...). The commercial exploitation of science is shown at its
most lurid and grotesque when the stellar station is made to resemble a
set of a Busby Berkeley musical from the 1930s. Here we have a
glimpse of what lies in store for us when commercial space jaunts to
the planet Mars get underway.
Croisières sidérales
was the first (and arguably most interesting) of the seven films that
André Zwobada directed. Prior to this, he had contributed
to the political documentary
La Vie est à nous (1936)
(the film in which Madeleine Sologne made her screen debut) and had
worked as an assistant on Jean Renoir's
La
Règle du Jeu (1939) (something that might account for
the sillier interludes in that film).
Croisières sidérales
has one unlikely claim to fame - it is the film in which comedy legend
Bourvil made his first film appearance - uncredited, he crops up
briefly as a scientist in the background near the start of the
film. And, proving that lightning does occasionally strike twice
in the same spot (often resulting in more damage the second time
round), Madeleine Sologne and Julien Carette had an earlier sci-fi
fling together, in Richard Pottier's slightly more believable
Le Monde tremblera (1939).
Croisières sidérales
certainly has plenty of shortcomings (Heaven knows what an Occupation
Era audience, let alone the censor, made of it), but amidst all the
silliness and liberty taking with scientific exactitude there's much
fun to be had. The special effects are also better than you might
have expected, with reasonably convincing model shots and an impressive
sequence where Carette and Sologne are seen to walk up the walls of
their spherical space pod (presumably the camera was fixed to the set
as it slowly rotated through 360 degrees). There's even a pretty
convincing weightlessness sequence, which milks some obvious
gags. And in what other French film is the Lorentz time dilation
formula quoted? How sad that Zwobada never got round to
making a film about quantum mechanics. It might have been fun to
see Carette in the role of Schrödinger's cat...
© James Travers 2015
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